


One Final Goodbye✨Clint Barton

by shaded_echoes



Series: marvel oneshots & misc. fics [1]
Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-14 05:07:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29165451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shaded_echoes/pseuds/shaded_echoes
Relationships: Avengers Team & Reader, Clint Barton/Reader
Series: marvel oneshots & misc. fics [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2141022
Kudos: 2





	1. Chapter 1

**⚠️TRIGGER WARNING⚠️: Mention of suicide. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE DO NOT READ IF THIS MAKES YOU UNCOMFORTABLE**

___________________

You storm up to the floor where everyone except Tony—who had his own private floor—lives, stopping when you reach Clint's area. About to barge in the bedroom, you think the better of it and calm down before entering. _No need to upset him_.

"Clint?" You ask softly, opening the door to his bedroom. He closes his book, looking up at you with a soft smile splayed over his normally gruff features.

"Hey baby, how was the mission?" He had stayed home this time, still not up to par since his shoulder injury two weeks ago. He was recovered but just hadn't gotten back in the groove with training.

You walk over to the bed, biting your lip to hold back tears. "It was okay," you lie, leaning over to kiss him chastely. He turns so you can't, grabbing your chin and gently forcing you to look at him. He noticed the shine in your puffy eyes and dropped his hand to his side.

"Seriously, Katniss, what's wrong?" Clint pressed softly, not buying your calm demeanor. It was pretty obvious anyways—you never were one for hiding your emotions.

The use of his pet nickname for you causes tears to well up in your eyes. "Nothing," you respond, your voice breaking as you look down at your shoes. Your boyfriend took your hand in his, gently rubbing it as he waited for you to speak, knowing you would. The two of you sit and stand in silence this way for a few moments.

"Okay," you sigh finally, looking into his eyes as tears well up in your own. "I- I can't do this."

"Can't do what?" Worry creased Clint's features as he furrowed his brow.

You gesture at the two of you, resolve growing despite the break forming in your heart. _I have to keep him safe—I'll only hurt him._ Pushing past the lump in your throat, you continue. "I can't do _us_ anymore, Clint. We're-" the words were poison to say, but you swallow and speak up again. "We're over."

You run out and slam the door behind you before he can respond, crying as you run to your room. He just stares after you at the now-closed door in shock, confused and not yet processing what just happened.

You lay on the bed, sobbing. Thankfully, Steve stops everyone from checking on you, telling them you need space—which you do, as usual, just for a different reason this time. As your sobs quiet and you stare up at the ceiling, you know what you have to do.

"F. R. I. D. A. Y., lock the door, please," you ask.

"Yes, Miss (y/l/n)," the AI responds. Getting up, you grab a duffel bag and pack it with necessities—some clothes, shampoo, soap, money, tools, weapons, etcetera. Once that is done, you push the dresser, bed, nightstands—all of your furniture—up against the door so it's harder to get in. Then, you grab a screwdriver and unscrew the vent, pushing your duffel bag through, and hide the vent lid. Last but not least, you open the window, unintentionally making a _screeeech_ , and curse. You then close the curtains and break the lightbulb, before sending a solid mirage that you used your powers to make look of yourself tentatively jumping and dying, out the window and off the balcony.

Finally done, you climb into the vents, hoisting yourself up. You hear the banging on your door growing softer and softer as you craw

l away.   
  


**Clint's POV:**  
_I was there when she fell. I had gone out to the living room to ask what happened, why (y/n) was ending our relationship. Everyone was there but Tony and Bruce, who were in sickbay._

_"What happened?" I asked as I walked in. Nat was immediately on guard._

_"Why do you ask?"_

_"(Y/n) just ran in and broke up with me," I answered._

_"What?" Thor asked, surprised._

_"Yeah." I sat down with a sigh, my head in my hands. "She said she can't do this anymore. I assume that the 'this' meant our relationship, as she broke up right after."_

_Wanda walked over to where I was sitting, giving me a hug. "I'm sorry," she said quietly. Everyone sat there in silence for a moment._

_"Seriously, though, what did happen?" I questioned again._

_Wanda sighed. "The mission was hard in all of us, but especially on (y/n). She couldn't control her powers; they had scramblers to mess it up. She accidentally hurt Tony, knocking down his suit. None of us blame her, but she blames herself a lot. On top of that, (y/n) was fighting one of the leaders and they told her something—no one knows what—and she went rigid. It gave him an advantage and so he used her as a shield, but none of us could hurt him_ _for fear of hurting her, so_ _he_ _got away."_

 _"Oh." I sat back, trying to take it all in, worried about my girlfriend. "So wha-" The rest of my words were cut off by a_ screeeech _coming from upstairs. Looking up through the floor-to-ceiling windows, I saw (y/n) tentatively put her foot out on the balcony ledge. "(Y/N)!!!" I cried, rushing upstairs to get to her before she could jump. Steve tried to stop me from behind, grabbing me by the arms and holding me back._

_"She just needs space, okay?" He said, trying to make me leave her alone. I turned to face him._

_"I just saw her standing on the ledge, Steve. And from her face, she's going to jump. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go make sure she doesn't."_

_Steve just stood there for a second, mouth agape, then turned and outran me to the elevator. Thor and Tony, who had just gotten out of sickbay, joined us as we rushed up to her room. Trying the locked handle, Tony called to F.R.I.D.A.Y., "unlock the door!" An edge of fear lined his voice, lined all of ours as we pushed against whatever barrier of furniture she had formed, calling to her._

_An idea strikes, and I climb into the vent, trying to make it to her on time._

As I crawl, I hear Tony calling to Peter to try and grab (y/n) before she lands—if it comes to that.

I get to her room, and notice that _all_ of the furniture is against the wall—she must have _really_ not wanted us to come in. I run as quickly as I can to the balcony, but it's too late. I look down just in time to see Peter swipe at her and miss as her body hits the ground with a sickening _splat_ , blood pouring from her skull.   
  


**_Your POV:_**  
You hear noises in the vents and quickly toss your duffel bag down into the small room. You and Clint found this one day, and had turned it into a small mini-den that was just yours, no one else's. Even Tony didn't know about it—he hadn't meant to leave a small room inside the wall.

You slide in after, landing quietly. Sneaking to a small seat, you hide in the hollow area, knowing Clint will be here soon. Even though it might mess it up, you just have to say goodbye.

Soon enough, your hunch proves true. You hear a small _thud_ and peer out to see your boyfriend—well, ex-boyfriend now. He sits on the couch by a picture of you two, holding it and crying. Your heart aches at the pain through which you know you're putting him and will continue to put him.

As soon as you're sure that no one else will come, you get out of your cramped area. Clint looks up, confused. His eyes widen as he notices you. "(Y-y/n)?" He asks as you walk to him and sit down, his head following your every move.

You nod in reply, tears filling your own eyes as you look at his. "Clint." You grab his head gently and kiss him. "Im sorry, baby. I love you," you run a hand through his hair, "but I have to go—to keep you safe."

He grabs your hand. "No, I can keep us both safe," he refutes.

You shake your head. "Not from this, no. Not unless you want to be stuck in here permanently, never able to go out, not even for groceries." As you speak your hand caress his cheek, covered by the archer's larger, calloused one. "And I don't want that for you." It's barely a whisper, but he heard it.

"Please, (y/n), we can stay. We can work something out. I'll talk to Tony. Please, please, just stay." The man, who practically never lets his emotions show for anyone, not even you, is full on sobbing as he pleads with you. "Please, (y/n), I love you."

The admission tips at your heart. You love him too, but you have to keep him safe—from yourself and from others. "I love you too." You lean down, kissing his forehead. "But this can never be."

"Please." You hug him, your tears mingling with his as they slide down your respective cheeks.

"No, Clint. I love you, but please, move on." You pull back to look him in the eye, and he brushes a tendril of hair behind your ear. "Can you promise me that? That you'll move on?"

He nods hesitantly, hiccuping.

"I'll try, Katniss, but I can't promise."

"That's all I need, Peeta." You hold his head in your hands, your hands glowing as you send him to sleep and place memory blockers in his mind so he won't recall this moment. Laying his head back down, and pressing the photo back in his hands, you give him one last lingering kiss before grabbing your bag and pad out of the room. You go to his room, stealing one of his shirts to remember him by, and leave through his room so that no one will ever know you didn't die. Thankfully, the solid mirage will last for a month, unless turned to ash, so they'll bury it before it disappears.

One last glance, and like a phantom that was never there, you steal away, never to return again.

Oh, how stupid of you.


	2. Chapter 2

**_Clint's POV:_**  
I stare blankly at the casket as it's lowered. _(Y/n)._ I miss her so much that it physically hurts. Nat rubs my back in silence, understanding my pain. She is- _was_ (y/n)'s best friend.

The weather is bleak, much like how we feel. The sky is clouded over, and a chilly wind cuts through to our bones.

After the funeral, I go back to my room. (Y/n)'s funeral was the first time I left since her death. I grab a bottle of bourbon and just sit there, trying to drink the pain away. Does it work? No. But it does for a moment, and right now, that's what I need.   
  


**_Your POV:_**  
The hotel you are staying at is pretty rundown, one-star—which makes it far easier to hide at. Since faking your death, you had gotten another fake identity, this one unbeknownst to the other Avengers, from one of your suppliers. You had then subsequently had to kill him, but his face haunted you, as did his words. _It's okay, I understand. Go ahead._

Even more than that, Clint's face as you left, tears streaming down it, haunted you. You missed him, and hoped he would move on. There was a physical ache as you slept, ate, walked, trained, and went about your day.

You kept to yourself, staying in your hotel room, but you ran out of supplies and now you need to go to the grocery store.

Grabbing sunglasses and a hoodie, 'standard undercover wear' when you don't have more advanced feature-disguising technology, you head out, locking your hotel room behind you.   
It's the wrong day to go to the store, apparently. You're getting some milk when you turn and notice Steve in a nearby aisle. _Fuck._ You move through even quicker, trying to get out before he notices.   
You're about to check out when you notice someone holding a gun up to the scared teenage cashier. Sighing, you leave your buggy in the aisle and walked up to the masked assailant, disarming him from behind...  
  


**_Steve's POV:_**  
I notice a woman walk by who looks similar to (y/n), but disregard it, putting it down to wishful thinking. Later, when I notice her again, it's shocking how alike the two appear.

I turn to go grab a few last things before checking out when I notice her the second time, pinning a masked man to the counter while holding a gun, which I assume is the man's—I didn't notice her carrying earlier, at any rate.

I stare in surprise, as most onlookers would call the police or something, not confront the perpetrators. But what _really_ stops me from moving on is her hands. They glow like Wanda's, but yellow instead of red—like (y/n)'s had before she died. I move back a little to where she can't see me, observing her subtly as she checks out. She turns to leave, and I move forward—too soon. I know the moment she sees me, as she stiffens and hurries even faster. I push my cart to the side and chase after her, easily catching up.

"Hey," I greet her angrily. She pulls me into a shadowed alley.

"What do you want, Steve?" She asks wearily. I can hear how tired she sounds.

"What the hell?" I ask gruffly. Sighing, I put my hand to my head. "No, don't answer that. Just—what happened, if that wasn't you we buried?"

She waits patiently, then pauses before answer. "You know I can make solid mirages," she explains as if I'm a child. "It's one of my powers, just like reading minds and knowing that right now you're wondering why I would do this is."

"Then answer it."

"I can't."

I slam my hand into the wall. "What do you mean, you can't?!"

"I just told you, I can't tell you." Tears creep into her voice. "I can't have anyone getting hurt."

I sigh, leaning against the wall. "I've missed you, (y/n). We all have."

She slumps down beside me. "I know," she agrees simply. "I have too."

We hug for a moment, sitting there quietly, but she pulls back, standing and brushing her clothes off as she grabs her groceries. Looking down at me with a pained expression, she says sadly, "You won't tell anyone about this, right?" I stay silent. "Right?" She presses. Still nada. "Please, it'll only lead to more pain." She is begging me at this point, and I hesitantly concede with a nod and a sigh.

"Thank god." Her body relaxes as she sighs in relief. One parting hug, and she says the last words I will ever hear her say to me.

"Bye, Steve. I miss you."


	3. Chapter 3

**A/n:** Romanogers is mentioned in here because they are OTP and if you disagree I swear I will FIGHT YOU

———

**THREE YEARS LATER**

**_Your POV:_**  
You slam the punching bag as hard as you can, trying to get all your pent-up rage out. You curse as the bag broke, breathing heavily, and move on to the next one.

It has been approximately three years since you broke up with Clint. Around two years after leaving the avengers facility, you were captured by Hydra. And today? Today is the anniversary of that day when everything went down the drain.

It has been one full year since that fateful day. _One. Full. YEAR._ You can't even expect the avengers to come find you, to hunt you down and save you; as far as they know, you're dead.

Only Steve knows. And being a man of his word, you know he won't break your trust. _Dammit, (y/n),_ you mentally berate yourself, _why'd you have to leave?_

But you know why you had to leave, and as long as it means keeping Clint safe, you wouldn't go back and change it if you had the choice.

"(Y/l/n)." Your superior's voice startles you from your workout and you turn to him.

"Percy," you respond respectfully. He isn't someone you like, but you know from experience that being rude will only make you have to be around him longer.

"New job." He passes you a file. "You up for it?"  
Your eyes quickly scan over it. A simple transport mission. Biting your lip, you look up, nodding.  
With that, he leaves, and you set the file on the bench with a sigh, sitting next to it. You lay your head in your hands, mentally cursing the bastard.

You have, over the past year, learned how to read people without your powers. You had been forced to. They had trained you, sapping you of energy, making you powerless, and forced you to learn to do such things manually. They no longer make you wear the cuff that drained you, but everyone above you wears a small pin on their suits that blocks you from trying to do anything. And as a result of such training, you know Percy isn't telling you all of the mission's details.

You picked up the file and headed back to your room, exhausted. You were losing energy, and you knew it. You had learned a while ago that you were fueled by a life force, and it was used up. Small things, like walking, eating and breathing, weren't that big of a deal. Working out, training? Took more, but still not too much. But using your powers—that was a whole other level entirely.

The cuff you had worn had drained you of a lot of life force, but no more than continually using your powers would have.

One might wonder, _you used to be avenger; you hate Hydra; so why the fuck are you working for these bastards?_

One would have to agree with you there. They were bastards (especially Percy) but you had no hope of ever getting out unless you gained their trust. It would only be then that you could escape.

So, you went along. You pretended you didn't care about the avengers anymore, proved by the fact that you had left them. What they didn't know, is that you knew they had been chasing me down since before then, and that that was part of why you left Clint all that while ago.

As it was, your only missions so far had left you without having to take casualties, thankfully—an upside that was most likely not to last much longer. You're worried, though, that this mission will be the one to change that. The sad part is, how right you were about it.

_*time skip brought to you by le Thor blowing up a microwave trying to heat up pop tarts*_

**_Clint's POV:_**  
I rub my head, walking into the briefing. It's been three years since (y/n)'s death, and although I've tried to move on, to start a new life, knowing that's what she would want, some days are harder than others. And today is one of the harder ones.

I look up at Steve, who gives me a sympathetic glance. He was one of the ones hit hardest by (y/n)'s death, especially a few weeks after when it really seemed to hit him that she was gone. I give him a weak smile as I sit, waiting with the others already in the room for everyone to assemble.

Once everyone is gathered, Steve directs our attention to the board. Thankfully, in the years since the ice, he's become proficient at using PowerPoint—not the biggest feat in the world, unless you're from the forties.

"There has been a lot of activity surrounding Hydra lately," Steve begins. Bucky stiffens to my left and Nat rubs his back understandingly. "We have solid intel that there will be a large transport from Germany to Russia, although we don't know what it is exactly that they are transporting. The job is to intercept the transport chain, take out the necessary agents while not attracting too much attention, and grabbing the package. Making it out unscathed would be a bonus. It isn't easy, but compared to other missions it's a relatively simple one." He went on to explain a detailed plan of action, to which I listened intently until he moved on past the part I played. I left to go suit up, preparing myself for the mission ahead.

**_Your POV:_**  
You march next to one of the large containers that Hydra is transporting. Most are decoys, but there is one that is important—the one you match next to. It, too, is a decoy, in a way. Because the goods they are transporting?

It's you.

Which leads to confusion on your part. Percy has been transparent as to the mission with you. And you know he isn't lying. What, then, is he keeping from you?

When the avengers show up, though, you understand it.

You understand All. Of. It.

Hidden in the crowd of agents, your face unrecognizable beneath a mask, you don't know what you expected, but it sure as hell wasn't this.   
Your heart catches in your throat when you see Clint, but you think logically and make it appear that your eye color has changed, seemingly under mind control.

You are right beside the main container. All are the same size, but this one contains a person. The others? Empty.

The catch with the person in the box, though, is that they've used technology to create your doppelgänger. You two look and sound exactly the same, down to tattoos, pimples, and freckles. The giveaway?

You and Clint had gotten matching tattoos when you were dating for one of your anniversaries. When Hydra took you, they made a list of every detail about you, even the minor ones. Out of spite, you managed to get enough energy to create a small mirage, hiding your tattoo. It was out of spite and privacy then, but boy were you glad you had done that. Now, if they got to the container, Clint would know it wasn't you in there. Even if the absence of the tattoo didn't tip them off, the woman in the box had very different mannerisms and colloquialisms she used.

You had resolved not to fight them. Instead, you discreetly took down Hydra agents beside you, making sure no one—Avenger, Hydra, or whatever else—noticed. You also unscrewed one of the screws in the lock, so it would be easy for them to open the container.

When you finished, you hid under the container, which had wheels on the bottom of it. You resolved not to fight, but kept your eye out on case they would need help; if someone was about to get hurt, you would then do whatever it took to help them—especially Clint. Thankfully, they were doing well and taking out most of the agents as they moved through, pretty close to winning.

You had realized that Percy's whole plan was to get the Avengers here and take them out. What you didn't know, was if they knew that it was 'you' they were rescuing.

When all the visible agents—meaning everyone except you and the girl in the box above you, as well as the two bodyguards stationed with her (although she could hold her own well)—are taken out, your ex-colleagues move on to the boxes. One by one they open them, each duo (they were divided in pairs) opening one.

Clint and Wanda were tasked with opening the one above you. They cautiously open theirs after Nat and Steve, and when nothing happens, Clint goes to step inside.

Wrong decision. With a _bam!_ you scramble out, fearing the worst. A gun cocks right next to you and you turn to face Nat.

"Who are you?" She asks threateningly, and you remember that you have your mask on. You make the eye-color mirage clear, looking like you've regained control, and you remove your mask. Nat falters, giving you a chance to run into the container, your friend got on your heels.

Clint is getting a beating, trying to fight off the two goons with a gunshot in his shoulder while Wanda takes care of the woman. Thankfully, no one could really see in the dark, so Wanda doesn't know it's supposed to be you. She figures out that the HYDRA woman is a robot. Pressing a button on the inside of the robot's wrist, the flesh disappears, leaving Wanda to deal with a hunk of metal—which she does.

You take this in in a second, and move to shoot one of the men grappling with Clint. You gasp and fall down suddenly, and instead a vibranium shield flies by and decapitates him before returning to its owner.

Nat is already fighting the other goon and quickly takes him out as Steve runs in, strapping his shield back on his back.

Nat picks up Clint and rushes out quickly, barely missing you with her feet. She is occupied with fighting first and then Clint and hasn't had a chance yet to process the fact that you're still alive. Wanda, too, walks out, carrying the dead robot in her arms.

Steve shines his flashlight around the room, making sure there isn't anyone else trying to attack them. Bucky joins him and holds the flashlight for him as the Cap grabs the two bodies and tosses them out of the shipping container. Moving the flashlight to the side, his hand falters as it lands on you. You squint, blinded by the light as your breath comes out quick and ragged.

"(Y-y/n)?" Bucky makes out softly. In the dark, Steve's brow creases in concern as he lifts you up and carries you out of the trailer.

Everyone but Clint stares in shock when they saw you—the latter was unconscious. Tony's expression is guarded as Steve set you down.

"(Y/n)? You're alive?" The billionaire asks, his cockiness and sarcasm missing for once. You notice that the majority of containers remain closed, as the others had hurried to Clint's aid when he was hurt.

"Wanda." Your voice is hoarse when you speak, like you're parched of water. She comes forward, kneeling at your side.

You're propped up on an elbow, not quite sitting but not quite laying down. Once she's close enough, you grasp her arm, looking up questioningly. Wanda nods in silent reply. Without having to ask it, she knows what you're doing.

You grab a nearby shard of something and prick your finger. A single drop of blood falls onto Wanda's arm, shimmering gold as it crystallizes and implants itself in her wrist. The wounds of both of you disappear as quickly as they came.

Exhausted, you fall back, closing your eyes for a second. Since you and Wanda are both powered by stones, she can't read your mind nor you hers. You're equals, and by doing what you just did, you had established a mental connection. As such, instead of just reading minds, you can communicate telepathically without it taking energy. In fact, it utilizes less overall energy than speaking out loud.

 _The other boxes are empty,_ you inform her. Wanda turns to the others and repeats it aloud. Nat just crosses her arms over her chest. "And we should believe this why?"

_I understand if she doesn't trust me, I don't expect her to right away. If she wants, she can check. But I literally just helped you guys take down hydra agents, and haven't tried to kill you._

Wanda relays the response back to Nat, who just cocks an eyebrow and says nothing.

"I'm sorry, (y/n)," Steve says as a solitary tear rolls down his cheek, walking over to you and kneeling by Wanda. She stands and goes back to your friends, giving the two of you space.

You know that Steve needs to hear it from you, so you croak out, "Not- your- fault. Thanks-." The end of saying that causes you to gasp harder as you shudder. Your energy is depleting exponentially, and you know it.

Steve wraps his arm around your back and helps you to a sitting position. He looks up at your friends helplessly.

"Did- did they torture you?" Bucky asks softly, coming to stand by Steve.

"No," you lie aloud. Another involuntary shudder wracks you, this one from memories.

Unfortunately, the mind link also let Wanda read your mind. "Yes," she corrects, sending an almost playfully angry glance to you.

"Why would you do this?" Tony's voice is defeated as his aloof exterior from earlier crumbles.

You looked down, ashamed. _I had to protect Clint. All of you. From myself, from Hydra, and from... more. Please, Wanda, don't try and figure it out._

Wanda leaves off the end (including the 'more') when she repeats it, and Tony's expression turns disappointed. "We could have helped you."

You shake your head 'no', but are interrupted by Clint's breath growing ragged and heavy. In an instant, you've scooted to his side, assessing the damage.

You move to press your hands to your ex but are quickly pulled back by Bucky. "No, (y/n), you aren't ready."

Before you can retort mentally, Wanda steps forward and places a gentle hand on Bucky's arm. "Let her," she says gently.

With a sigh, your friend releases you, and you move back to Clint. Your hands glow golden as your life force transfers, healing his wounds. You take care of the major, life-threatening ones first, before moving on to the less fatal ones. Without warning, you slump forward, unconscious but your hands still glowing, albeit faintly now.

Clint comes to slowly, gasping as he notices you laying across his chest. "(Y/n)!" He looks slowly at the others, willing for this to not be a dream. Steve looks away, and then it hits him. He sees an expression different from the others and realizes. "You- you _knew._ " Clint's voice is bitter, betrayed.

"What?" Bucky asks, turning Steve to face him. "Is this true?"

Steve nods slowly, and Wanda has to hold back Tony and Nat. "Steve..." the witch's voice is soft and understanding, if a bit pained for him.

"I met her in the grocery store a couple weeks after she faked her death," Steve explains guiltily.

"And you never thought to tell us until now?" Nat is irate.

"She made me promise."

"So _that's_ what all that was about earlier," Tony's accusing voice rings out. "So keeping your word is better than being loyal to your friends?"

Steve stays quiet, trying not to burst out angrily. Wanda nods sympathetically, being the only avenger to know about your limited time and life force. She knows that, if everyone found out, they'd be angry at her for not telling them.

Everyone quiets as you wake up. You know your time is short, and Clint still isn't healed enough to survive.

It might have been selfishness, it might have been pity, to this day no one knows. But you take a break and remove the memory barriers from his mind, allowing him to remember the scene when you left, after your 'death'.

Clint looks up at you, pain evident in his features—although it isn't from his physical wounds now. He stares in disbelief, then turns his head to Wanda, unsure.

"Yes," she confirms, "that happened, (y/n) just blocked it from your memory."

You decide that you'll speak.

"Clint... Clint baby, I'm so sorry."

He laughs humorlessly. "Sorry? _Sorry_? Jesus christ, do you know what this did to me?"

You look away at the ground, ashamed. "I thought you'd be better off without me."

"Just-" he pauses as he takes you in. "Why? Why did you do this?"

"To keep you safe. And it's done that, to an extent, in that you only have to expect danger on your missions. And if I hadn't been here, you'd be dead." You try to keep your voice strong, but it cracks in the last sentence.

He lifts your head and gently caresses your cheek with his thumb. "I'd go through any danger, for you. I just wanted you to stay."

You take in the grey hairs, the wrinkles that hadn't been there before, the dullness of his eyes that always sparkled, and the bags underneath them.

A pang goes through your chest. _Was I right?_ Doubt runs through your mind. _Maybe I should've stayed. Maybe it would've been safer for him._

"All I've ever wanted, was you."

The sentence, although Clint means it to help you want to come with them, only makes it harder to try and heal him. Taking in a deep breath, you remind yourself, _you're going to die soon anyways, might as well save Clint while you're at it._

Wanda looks at you with sad eyes, knowing what you're silently asking.

She nods slowly, and you turn back to Clint as she moves to where the others stand, clustered a few feet behind you, to give you space.

"I'm sorry, baby." You press your foreheads together, before giving him a sweet kiss and turning back to his wounds. He thinks that you're apologizing for the past, and you are, in a way—but more apologizing for what you 're about to do.

You take a deep breath and press them into his chest as they glow gold, what little life force depleting from you as it saves and heals him.


	4. Ending A (Sad Ending)

You slump over Clint, the gold moving to encapsulate your entire body. You move up a few feet in the air, levitating as wisps of gold fly out of you and up into the atmosphere. When all of the gold has flown away, you drop unceremoniously into a heap on the ground. "(Y/n)!" Pain rips through Clint's voice at seeing you die, not once, but twice--right after he got you back. The others are shocked as well, some not processing it and others not quite trusting it.

"How can we be sure she's really dead? I mean, she did pretend for three years," Tony puts in. Wanda just stares at him, and at her expression, his face drops.

Wanda shakes her head sadly and moves to Clint, laying a gentle hand on his back. He's picked you up and is now cradling you as silent tears roll down his cheeks. He turns, trying not to let the team see, but they don't judge.

Bucky and Steve are much the same, standing stoically nearby as they tried to hold in their tears. (Pretty much no one on the team knows how to healthily display emotion, trying to keep their crying unnoticeable and to a bare minimum. )

Wanda is one of the only ones who let tears stream down her face, not caring who sees or what they think. Nat is crying too, but she hides her face in Steve's shoulder so no one will see. Tony still lowers his Ironman mask so no one would be able to see him, either, as he mourns.

"Wanda..." Clint turns to her with a knowing look in his puppy dog eyes.

She nods silently, confirming his suspicions. Immediately, he shrugs away from her touch. His tone grows harsh and cold. "You know." His tone is as accusatory as Tony's had been with Steve.

"I'm sorry, Clint."

"Sorry doesn't begin to cover it!" He snaps. "And that goes for you, too, Steve."

At his name, Steve looks up sadly, but remains quiet as he tightens his hold on Nat. Her sobs taper off as her boyfriend rubs her back.

"(Y/n)..." Clint's voice is broken as your body slowly fads away into golden ash, slowly drifting upward as your soul had moments before.

You were gone, and nothing would ever fill the void in his heart now. 


	5. Ending B (...Less Sad Ending)

Your body falls forward, unconscious. Your pulse stops and you seem to be dead. It's like the Princess Bride all over again; to anyone else, it would seem that you're dead—but you are only 'mostly dead, not all dead'.

Wanda (who doesn't know you are alive) moves to Clint, resting a comforting hand on his shoulder. He's picked you up and is now cradling you in his arms as silent tears roll down his cheeks. He turns, trying to hide his emotion from the team unsuccessfully.

Bucky and Steve were much the same, standing stoically nearby as they tried to hold in their tears. Tony's face was covered by the Ironman mask, which was now soundproof to hide his crying. Nat is crying too, but hid her head in her boyfriend, Steve's, shoulder to hide her tears. Wanda is the only one who lets tears flow unchecked, not caring who sees or what they think.

"Is there any way to save her?" Clint looks desperately back and forth between Wanda and Tony. Tony hesitates, glancing at the witch.

"I- I don't know, Clint. But we sure can try."

"No," Wanda speaks up quietly. "She's already fully depleted her life force."

"Life force?" Nat turns from her boyfriends shirt, now drenched with tears, trying to keep up some semblance of being unmoved. "What do you mean, life force?" Her quizzical tone turns suspicious. 

Wanda looks at her feet. "I, uh, she, uh..." she sighs, deciding to plunge ahead and get it over with. "She is powered by the mind stone, like Vis, but differently in that Vision is like a cord and an outlet, he has to be 'plugged in' to the stone for him to work and live. (Y/n) is more like a battery-powered thing. She got charged when she was born, but she ran out and that's what killed her."

Clint shrugs her arm away, glaring at her. "And you never thought to say this until now?"

"I couldn't tell you, because then you'd know she wasn't dead. If she had jumped, her body would have healed itself and she wouldn't be able to die."

"So what you're saying is, you knew she was alive and dying, and never told us? Did you ever consider that we could help her?" Tony's voice is filled with hurt from yet another betrayal.

Wanda bites her tongue to compose herself. _She had to go, or she'd have been eaten alive with grief and worry. I don't get why you don't understand, I was hurt by her 'death' too!_

"It's no use imagining what could have happened. What's done is done."

They are all interrupted by the appearance of Vision. "I heard Agent (y/l/n) was found," he explains as he floats in place, cape whipping behind him.

"Wait..." Tony speaks up, "Did you know too?"

"Of course, Mr. Stark. Who do you think told Wanda?"

Wanda rests a comforting hand on Vision's arm. "Don't be mad at him," she pleads, "I'm the one who convinced him not to tell you."

"Vision... is there any way to save her?" Tony asks hesitantly, ready to be shut down and lose his last glimmer of hope for the situation.

Without responding, Vision walks over and kneels beside Clint. Grabbing your hand, he places it over the pulsing mind stone.

After a minute, you begin to breathe quickly, your heart beating far faster than is normal. You remain unconscious as life slowly begins to fill you.

"I'll probably have to recharge her soon, and the damage inflicted on her has been substantial so she'll probably spend a while in medbay, but she should make a full recovery," Vision informs the group. He flys upward and pauses to turn, levitating in that spot. "Oh, and she has quite possibly lost her ability to heal."

With that shocking news, he is off, leaving the rest to make their way back to the tower.

🕺🏿💃🏻тιмє ѕкιρ вιαт¢нєѕ 💃🏻🕺🏿

It takes a full week and a half to recover from your comatose state. Clint spends the whole time there, never going on missions, not eating or sleeping in fear that he wouldn't be there or would be preoccupied when you woke. He never moves from your bedside.

When you do wake, it's an estimated four months before you make a full recovery—although the actual time ends up extending that. And with the loss of one of your powers, it feels like part of you is missing.

Tony works day and night on a solution to help you, to make sure that you don't lose life force and that, if anything ever happened to Vision or the mind stone, you'd be able to live.

But when you wake, you were unaware of any of that. Even if you had been, I can't say that it would have mattered too much. Because the only thing on your mind is the man holding your hand in the chair beside you, weary and exhausted, but committed to being there when you regained consciousness--barely conscious himself.

You muster up the strength to smile. "Hey baby," you greet weakly.

His head shoots up. "(Y-y/n)?" You nod slightly.

"(Y/n)! (Y/n), baby, never do that again." He lets go of your hand as he hugs and kisses you, pulling back to look at you.

You traced your hand over the scars and stubble that hadn't been there before your first 'death', moving your hand to caress his cheek as you stared into his bloodshot eyes.

"Don't do which thing?" You tease. He pretends to scowl, but can't hold back a grin.

"All of them."

Your face grows serious. "I won't, baby. I'll never leave you again. I promise."

He leans down and kisses you, eyes glistening. It's a slow, sweet kiss, filled with the longing and pain of the last three years.

You kiss him back, pulling away only for air. You tug at his arm as you lie back, and he gazes at you with a questioning look in his eyes.

"Cuddles?"

He nods with a slight smile at your simple, innocent request.

Clint moves to the small hospital bed, wrapping his arms around you and making sure to avoid the wires and IVs and miscellaneous hospital-things.

You two lay there contentedly, his hands running through your hair. You stay there for a while, a comfortable silence falling over you two as you relax, hand pressed into his chest. Clint, being exhausted from his week-and-a-half vigil, soon dozes off in your arms. You move to better situate him, taking your turn in running hands through _his_ hair.

And that's how Tony and Nat find you, having come to try and convince Clint to eat again. You smile weakly at your friend, who walks through first, but when Tony comes in, you hear the beginnings of the highest screech you have had yet to hear. Nat quickly muffles him and joins you in glaring daggers at the billionaire.

When Nat releases him, he winks and asks, "Any security footage I need to delete?"

You turn to Nat, an exasperated sigh coming from you. "Would you mind killing him for me?"

Nat glares at Tony's retreating back as he runs away for fear of his life. "With pleasure."

She takes off after him and, problem solved for the moment, you turn back to Clint, who is still fast asleep. "I promise," you whisper, knowing he can't hear you. And with that, you fall into a restful sleep.


End file.
